


Unexpected

by msbeeinmybonnet (beeinmybonnet)



Series: (like wines)  we intertwine [3]
Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Dorian is a spoilt brat, Fluff, Friendship, Gen, Krem is a mother-hen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-29
Updated: 2015-08-29
Packaged: 2018-04-17 22:26:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 553
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4683614
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/beeinmybonnet/pseuds/msbeeinmybonnet
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dorian finds out he's made a friend without even being aware of it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Unexpected

**Author's Note:**

> Krem needs all the love. 100% inspired by the hints in the game that Krem knows his way around a needle.
> 
> Set mid-late Skyhold.

It was a bitterly cold winter evening that not even the magically temperate microclimate of Skyhold could prevail over. Dorian nevertheless refused to let it look like it was affecting him — if he got called a hothouse orchid one more time, there would be fireballs, he swore it — and upon entering Herald's Rest, he restrained himself from trying to rub life back into his poor arms. He settled instead for leaning casually against the post closest to the fire as he took in the day's crowd. The tavern was stifling with the heat of bodies and Dorian deplored the fact that there would be no-one to keep him warm through the night later. Iron Bull's absence made their room seem even colder and emptier than it already was, but he had left for the Exalted Plains a week earlier, together with Trevelyan, Cole and Solas. Something about a favour for the elf, Iron Bull hadn't gone into details, only that Trevelyan had said she would feel safer with him at her side. 

Which was all well and good but the qunari was like a furnace and Dorian had gotten used to waking up without frostbite.

Contemplating whether to go for a Highever ale or a Bannorn brew, the only warning Dorian received was a particularly loud chorus of laughter from the Charger's corner before Krem shouted, "Hey, 'Vint! Catch!"

Dorian spun around and managed to seize the mysterious flying object which elicited another loud whoop from the mercenaries. Throwing them a half-hearted glare, he then inspected the bundle in his hands. It was a quilted elongated triangle, with long leather straps attached and an alarming amount of buckles. What he assumed was the front side was cream-coloured damask, suspiciously similar to one of the Inquisition's finer tablecloths — in particular the one that Teyrn Cousland had spilled wine all over during the last banquet. Then there was the wrong side, oh, he most certainly recognized that material. That midnight blue silk shirt had sadly been a casualty to Iron Bull's passion and ended up in scraps on the floor; Dorian could see three places where the fabric had been deftly mended.

He must have let some of the confusion he felt show on his face, because he heard Krem snort and say, "It's for your poncey shoulder." Well, that explained the fourteen buckles for five straps, at least. Such comedians. "It's starting to look blue. You're getting Chief worried."

This time Dorian felt his face betray his surprise and he quickly tossed back, "Ah, we can't have that, can we?" Krem just had one of his small wry smiles on his lips and no trace of wariness in his eyes. Krem Aclassi, Iron Bull's second-in-command, son of a tailor, creator of the stuffed nugs with wings that delighted the refugee children so. Dorian cleared his throat lightly, tightening his hold on the gift ever so slightly. "Thank you very much, _Cremisius_."

"Welcome, 'Vint," Krem said with only a mild scowl at the use of his full name before turning back to the rest of the Chargers.

Running his thumb idly over the damask, Dorian thought that he might find a use for it in his alcove in the library. While the window did offer him a wonderful view, there was almost always a draught...

**Author's Note:**

> Unbeta'd. Con-crit is always welcome.


End file.
